


A Court of Hope and Moons

by carpesidera



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, F/F, F/M, Future Fic, Mates, Tamlin is a tool, Temporary Character Death, au-200 years later, elain is badass, elain/azriel forever
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-02-27 17:49:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13253472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpesidera/pseuds/carpesidera
Summary: Rhysand died saving the world, he used his life source to save his mate.Then 200 Years later Elain has a vision of her High Lord.





	1. Prologue

Prologue

The worlds felt it the day the Lord of Night fell, they felt the pain and sorrow as his mate screamed her agony, her pain. 

“Bring him back!” she screamed, the darkness she inherited from her mate spiraled around her. “BRING HIM BACK TO ME!” she demanded from the high lords who all found themselves drawn to the fallen body of their ally, “You brought me back, do it again.” Feyres snarled her teeth at them all.  
Helion knelt down into the mud, he brought a fist to his heart and slowly a golden glow formed across his knuckles, he brought it down to Rhys still chest and laid his hand down flat. The gold glow did not move, it seemed to try to dance away but it couldn’t move from Helions tanned knuckles. Feyre held her breath until Helion looked up at her, his own eyes glistening with tears

“I am so sorry Feyre, I can’t. He can’t be made.” He bowed his head, said a prayer in a language so old most in the crowd had forgotten its words, then moved away gesturing for his fellow high lords to follow.

The Night Court huddled over his body, shielding their lady from the every watchful eyes of the other courts as rain began to fall. Heavy drops that swept away the blood and grit of the battle, the sound of each raindrop muffling the cries of the survivors.

Mor was the first to block her emotions, to file the tears and agony away for another moment. She bundled the still weeping Feyre into her arms, Azriel pried her delicate fingers from the rain sodden coat of his lord, of his brother. Without a word Mor winnowed away The High Lady of the Night Court. 

Cassian collapsed by the body, his fingers hovering over the face of his best friend. He felt Nesta behind him, her own hands clinging to very edge of Cassian's wings as if making sure he was still there, was real. He turned slightly taking in the sight, the Made Fae looked him in the eyes and smiled weakly before moving to sit on the muddy field, she picked up Rhys head, placing in delicately in her lap. Without any words she ripped up her shirt, making a cloth to wipe away any blood and mud that remained. Her own tears muddling with the rain.

Az stood by Rhysands feet, staring down at the only family he ever had. His hands shaked and his shoulders slumped, his shredded wings falling into the mud. He had no energy or magic left to try and hide his grief. The shadows clung to him, warping his appearance as if he truly wanted to disappear from all view. A sob broke through his lips and he fell to the mud. He screamed in agony, cursing the cauldron, the mother and Rhys himself. Cassian turned slowly to watch the Shadowsinger fall to pieces. before noticing the person behind them.

Elain looked like an angel compared to her surroundings, her elegant Winter Court coat was barely stained as she knelt on the ground, both hands grabbing Az’s face. She pulled him to look at her. She did the same as her sister, ripping her own coat to wipe the blood, grim and shadows from his face, wiping each tear away as they continued to fall. 

“We need to take him home.” She whispered to no one. But they all rose together, Nesta taking extra care to place Rhysand back onto the ground.

His brothers looked at each other, taking in the dull and empty siphons. They had no way of winnowing their High Lord back to his Court of Dreams.

Nesta looked away, turning to an unheard sound.

“Oh.” she whispered, no emotion left. Before anyone could ask her anything she ran full force to the newly formed cauldron. She pulled herself over the edge just as Cassian, hot on her heels, grabbed her tiny waist.

“What are you doing?” he growled, anger and fear laced every word.

“Amren.” she snarled back just as a hand reached from the frothing water. Pale and tiny it clung to Nestas wrist with a hungry desire for life. She pulled, and Cassian held her in place as they pulled the newly Made Armen from the Cauldrons waters. 

She fell to the floor with little grace and as she rose, the remaining court took her all in. Grey eyes looked back at them, no fire or moving silver reflected back them, instead it was simply grief. Unfounded, unspeakable grief and they knew no one had to tell the First in Command that their high lord was dead.

Her voice broke as she grabbed Cassian and Azriels hands, both males shocked by the touch, and pulled them close.

“I saw him, before he moved on. No spell will bring him back, no magic given will mean we get him back. He told me to tell you, be brave and watch over her.” tears fell from everyone's eyes. 

Other Fae had started to make their way towards the cauldron and towards the fallen Lord. Amren snarled through grinded teeth as Helion and Tarquin had returned kneeing as they recited more prayers for their friend and ally. The rest of the Lords and Fae knelt behind them as the Mothers Prayer rose above the cries, above the sound of rain falling.

Amren grabbed Nesta and Elain and winnowed them away. Into the town house. She left without a word only to return a moment later with the Males. She took one look into the sitting room where Feyre sat, staring at nothing as Mor stood by the window. 

“Look after her. I’ll look after him.” She disappeared again.

The Inner Circle moved into the room and the Archeron sisters all clung to each other as silent tears fell from Feyres eyes.

Time passed and the sun set. Finally Feyre shook herself from her sisters arms.

“I’m pregnant.” she whispered to the room.


	2. After All This Time

**One Year after the War**

Feyre stood at the door of the nursary, her baby girl was sleeping quietly. Elain had passed out next to the crib after spending 2 hours trying to coax the tiny baby to sleep with a shadow 

Feyre smiled at the sight of her sister and daughter. She turned slowly away into the living room of her townhouse. She picked up bits and pieces from the couch and floor, cleaning up absentmindedly. She spent a lot of time lately doing things without noticing it, as if half her mind like half her heart was gone.

When she had seen Rhys fall all she wanted to do was fade away, leave the living behind and run away into the abyss with him. But he wouldn’t let her, the part of him that stayed with her, the mating bond was still there even though he wasn’t.

_ Oh Feyre Darling  _ he purred down the mating bond everytime she thought about fading, every time raising her little girl seemed to much. Everytime she grew jealous of her sister and her mating bond with Cassian or her anger when Elain threw away her mating bond with Lucian to try things with Azriel.

_ She is our little ray of Hope isn’t she?  _ He said the day she was born. After 12 hours of labour and cursing everyone who tried to help, their daughter had been born, 8 pounds of screaming crying baby with tiny delicate wings that wrapped around her small pink body. Already at only a few months old she was the spitting image of her father, dark hair and her skin tanner than Feyre would ever hope to be. 

“Hello Hope, we love you so much.” she had said holding her tiny baby in her arms. She could feel Rhys with her, smiling at his two girls. 

Hope had kept her alive, kept her running the Night Court. In an ideal world she would have waited, waited till her and Rhys had had a life together before children, but if Feyre had learnt anything in her short and bumpy life it was that nothing was ideal.

With the living room tidy and her baby asleep she fell onto the couch.

“Oh Rhys, I miss you.” she whispered to the empty room. And as she closed her eyes she could almost hear Rhy laughing a her and whispering in her ear,  _ I miss you too. _

**20 Years after the War**

“Hope, you are not leaving this house in that!” Feyre stood at the bottom of the stairs her hands on her hips.

Her daughter stood at the top, her black hair falling over her shoulders as she did a spin in her new dress, picked out by Mor. It was so short the Heir to the Night Court was wearing tiny shorts underneath the skirt, the material was tiny and black with tiny glittering stars all over, her already tall frame was made taller by 3 inch boots that seemed to be painted onto her calves. Her wings peaked out the back of the backless dress, they fanned out as she spun and Feyre couldn’t help but admire her daughters wingspan and its strength. After training her whole life with Cassian and Azriel she was faster then her dear old mum, plus her wingspan seemed to rival even Az’s.

“Come on Mum! It’s the Summer Solstice! Plus Aunt Mor is wearing something similar!” She almost ran down the stairs to hug her mum. Feyre pulled her into a tight embrace, hoping that if she clung onto her daughter for a little longer she will stop growing up. 

“If Aunt Mor jumped off a bridge would you follow her?”

“Yes, I have wings.” Hopes smirk made Feyre’s heart jump and skip, it was so much like her fathers.

_ Let her wear it Feyre, she can’t cause that much damage  _ Rhy purred down the bond.

_ Of course she can, she’s your daughter. _

Rhys laugh echoed down the bond followed by an image of him tipping an imaginary cap. No matter how much time passed since his death she still heard him every day.

“I want you home by twelve and not a moment later.” Hope laughed again before running to the living room and returning with a garment bag under one arm.

“You’re coming too Mum, everyone is.”

Feyre wanted to say no, she wanted to stay home and maybe read her book or do the same thing she had done almost every night for 20 years. Sit in her room and stare at the unfinished painting of Rhys.

But Hope stood there, her large eyes an exact replica of her father's with the garment bag out and she knew she had to go. For her daughter.

She took the bag and made her way up the stairs.

_ Enjoy your night Darling _

“I will, my Love.” She whispered to the sky.

**One Hundred and Forty Nine Years After the War**

Hope moved out after her 148th Birthday, into a townhouse three doors down from Feyre. The day it had happened Feyre had fussed, had helped fold her daughters clothes and wrapped all breakables. 

Cassian and Hope had laughed as the High Lady moved around the room packing up her daughter's life in the most human way.

Hope smiled and pulled her mother into an embrace, together they looked as if they were the same age. Hope had settled at 19, her body forever looking as if she was a youthful teenager. She was taller than Feyre and with her tanned skin and broad wingspan she was her father to her T. The only difference the whole Night Court noticed was that Hope never looked defeated, she never looked away with grief or memories. She had been raised with love and kindness and nothing had darkened her childhood.

“Mum, you do realise we can just winnow this all into my house.” Her voice was so much like Rhys, sometimes Feyre had to close her eyes and take a moment.

“I know, but give your mother a break. It's not everyday my only daughter leaves me.” Feyre held Hope closer. Her daughter always smells like rain on a summer's day.

“I’m going three doors down, I am not moving across the wall.”

“I know, I just like having you here that's all.” Feyre moved back across the room, refolding the clothes she had already folded. Hope and Cass just shook their heads before making quick work of moving everything to the new flat.

\----

Feyre stood in the empty Townhouse, for the first time in a hundred and fifty years she was alone. No daughter stumbling in, no Cassian and Nesta arguing over anything and no Elain and Azriel sitting in silence as they read a book together. And no Rhys.

She hadn’t heard him in weeks, the mating bond finally had gone cold.

_ I need you Rhys,  _ She sent down the bond, feeling her way down the tether only to find a solid wall of obsidian.  _ I need you to tell me how to do this. I raised our daughter, I brought peace to the courts and I built the wall literally over your dead body. I need you. _

Silence was her only answer, horrible deafening silence. 

Feyre crumbled to the floor, her legs giving up. She wanted to sob, to scream her pain but no sound could escape her lips. It was as if her whole world had gone deaf with the loss of her bond.

All her magic poured out of her, the darkness from Rhys, her sunlight from Helion, Her claws from Tamlin, all the powers and magic she had received from all the High Lords tried to force their way from under her skin and crawled over her curled up body. 

She laid collapsed on the floor of the hallway, shaking and staring at nothing. With the end of her mating bond and the end of her daughter needing her Feyre fell into something worse than fading. She became a shell.

Nesta found her hours later, walking into the town house like she owned the place she fell to her knees at the sight of her baby sister staring at nothing sounded by shadows and light with claws gripping into the hardwood floors.

“Feyre! Get up!” she pulled her to her chest, rocking and shaking her.

“Get up Feyre! Get up and fight! Don’t sit back like he did, don’t fade into nothing like Father did! GET UP!” Nesta pushed her own magic through Feyres shields, tearing open her mind and grabbing Feyre from her shadow prison.

She wrapped her mental hands around Feyres soul and pulled her to the surface.

The High Lady of the Night Court blinked in her sisters arms, she breathing shallow as she took in her sisters strong arms and tearfilled eyes.

“I don’t want this anymore Nesta.” She whispered her own eyes filling with tears. “I can’t do this without him.”

Nesta closed her eyes, choosing her next words carefully, “We all know this is hard Feyre, Cass and Az lost their brother, Mor and Amren lost their family. None of us know how hard this could be at all for you. But you have to keep breathing and moving and being. Because you have a daughter, who is Rhysand. Remember that, she is him. Stay with us just a little longer for her and for me. Please.”

Feyre almost smiled, it was the nicest thing Nesta had ever said to her and for just a small moment she thought  _ Maybe I can keep going. _

So she did, Feyre stayed with her family. She ruled the Night Court, she dined nightly with her inner circle and she would walk the streets and talk to her people every day. She stayed for Hope and her sisters. But a part of her stayed in the shadows of her mind, nursing the thought fading like a toxic fall back.

Elain and Nesta watched their sister daily, finding excuses to walk with her or to make her spend the day with them. They watched her half hearted smiles and her darkened gaze when no one was looking. They watched her and nursed her, not back to who she was but enough to make sure Hope never found out.

**Two Hundred Years After the War**

Elain felt the vision pull her from her dreams, the vision felt cold. Her night dress billowed around her as she walked through the vision woods. She had a feeling she had been there before as she picked her way barefoot through the undergrowth. The air was cool and dry, and with a quick realisation she was in the Spring court. Further into the woods she went she found the new wall. Build after the war, a visible wall seen by humans and fae, it was built over the grave of Rhysand and held together by magic of each high lord. Elain had never seen it in person but over the last 200 years she had many visions of the wall, it had been singing out to her since its creation but she had never understood why. This was the first time she had walked to it, taking in its height and simplicity, just red brick over 12 feet high. She dared to raise her hand up, her long elegant fingers gently grazed the stone. Then the vision started to take control, images flyed at her, each vision like a punch in her skull. She saw flashes of Rhysand, of cassian and Azriel, of the court of nightmares and dreams and of things she could not make out. She felt pain in her heart, in her lungs then the burning started, from her core her body was burning from the inside out. She doubled over and both her hands grasped the wall, her fingers gripping the rough surface. The burning pain moved suddenly from her core, up her chest and then burned through her arms, leaving her body though her fingers. She screamed in pain as the flames left her body, burning her nails. She pushed away from the wall, breathing heavily to catch her breath. The pain had subsided leaving her feeling colder than she had ever felt.

Stepping away she took in her finger prints on the wall, they had burnt away the stone and gently she poked the holes, the rest of the stone fell away under her touch and she felt something alive under the shadows. Whatever it was pushed the rest of the crumbling stone away, Elain stumbled back losing her footing on the undergrowth she fell down onto her back. Pushing herself halfway up she saw movement in the shadows, they stumbled from the wall slowly, their face tilted up and the moonlight lit up their features.

“RHYS!”

Elain woke with a start, her eyes opening to darkness as she felt her partners wings close further around her. She had awoken like this so often it brought her comfort as the chill from the vision slowly melted away.

“Breathe.” muttered the sleepy male next to her. Azriel tightened his wings closer around her like a cocoon and pulled her close to his chest, she clung to him with a hunger that she hoped would never pass as she slowly came to her senses, the chill from the vision and sleep finally slipping away from her. He rubbed her shoulders as his shadows moved to replace his wings, shifting so she could see that it was still night. After all these years she was still shocked by the warmth the shadows brought to her bare skin

.

_ What happened? _ he whispered to her, mind to mind. His words like a shiver down her shields.

Elain took some time to answer, her vision still replaying over and over in her mind. SHe couldn’t send it to him though. They had learnt years before that her visions were hers alone and no matter who or what tried to see them they never could. The cauldron had created a shield for her visions stronger than anything the shadowsinger had ever seen.

“I saw Rhys. I saw him stumbling out the of wall.” she shivered at the memory, she could still see it as she closed her eyes. Her fingers flexed as she remembered the flames that had escaped their tips. Azriel stilled, his fingers that had been running up and down her arms stopped. She moved off him, turning to look him in the eyes. The whole vision tumbled from her lips as Azriel kept a solid hand on her back, his eyes staring intensely into hers.

“Az, I think Rhysand is alive.” she whispered the words breaking the eye contact, afraid that if she said them outloud the universe would find a way to prove her wrong.

He shook his head, his hair falling to his eyes. 

“How?”

“I don’t know.” they lent forehead to forehead, taking in this new information. Elain knew what it meant, if Rhys was alive then Feyre would get better, their child would have a father and the Inner Circle would finally heal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now the fun begins.
> 
> Please don't forget the Kudos or Comment button, it really does mean a lot.


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

 

Elain searched the floor blindly looking for her shirt while Az lent further back in their bed, a small grin playing on his lips.

She turned to stare at him, her own smile broad on her face. “Get up! This is important!” she tossed his shirt at him, still searching for her own.  _ Where did you throw it last night?  _ She asked him down their bond.

He sent laughter back with a memory. His scarred hands feeling up her back, her small moans in his ear as he ripped the shirt from behind and the material falling by the foot of the bed.

_ I think you need a new one  _ came down the bond husky and filled with want.

“Az! That was a new one! Now get up we need to wake Cassian.” Azriel just made himself comfier in their large bed.

“I told him,” gesturing to this temples, “He is coming. Now come back to bed for a minute. Please.”

Elains’ smile shone as she slowly moved back to the bed, getting on her knees she crawled along the mattress. In the last 200 years she had learnt many things about the Male she chose to spend her immortal life with, but the one thing she had learnt was that he had a fascination with being caught. Normally by Cassian or Nesta. He liked the idea of making them as uncomfortable as possible.

“Do you really think now is the time?” She laid down, her head resting on his chest as she pulled her closer.

“I think Rhysand would understand.” Az sounded so hopeful that maybe his brother was alive and Elain would be a terrible partner if she didn’t celebrate with him. At least that's what she told herself as she felt the shadows Azriel commanded slowly creep along her legs and dip under the panties she had only just replaced. She leant back as a moan escaped her lips, Azs’ fingers wrote patterns and words gently over her sensitive skin.

“Az…” she moaned out just as the door to their bed chamber opened.

“OH COME ON!” Cassian whined before slamming the door with himself behind it, “Did you seriously call me just for this! Elain I can’t believe you let him do this, AGAIN!” 

Elain stifled a laugh as Azriel pulled his shadows back and rose off the bed.

“Maybe next time Brother you will knock.” he said as he opened the door to a red faced Cassian who stormed into the room. Going to the dresser he pulled out trousers for Azriel and a shirt for Elain.

“You invited me here, why do I need to knock when I’m invited?”

“Because it's polite?”

“Because you have known Az for too many years not too.” Elain chimed in while shrugging the shirt over her and the duvet she used to shield Cassian's eyes from her naked body. 

“This is true, now why am I here and not having my own fun with my mate.”

“I had a vision.”

“Okay and?”

“And I think, no, I know Rhysand is alive.” 

Cassian blinked then blinked again before rising to pace the room, his wings hanging low as he took in what Elain had said.

“Tell me everything.” He demanded so Elain did, every tiny bit of detail she could remember spilled out of her as the Commander and Shadowsinger took it all in. Cassian continued to pace, nodding as Elain spun her story.

“And that’s it, he came out of the Wall and I woke up.”

“He is in the Spring Court?”

“Yes, don’t ask me how I know that,” She had after all never stepped foot in that court, “But I know he is there, I think I can get us there but we have to hurry.”

Azriel went to find a shirt but Elain shook her head slowly, “Az, you have to stay here, it’s why I asked for Cass.”

“I’m not letting you do this alone.” He used his commanding voice on her.

“You are banned from the Spring Court remember?”

“So are you!” he reminded her.

She smiled sadly and rose to pull him into her embrace, “Lucian won’t hurt me, he couldn’t. But me and you breaking into his court in the middle of the night, he would kill you. And no one would blame him.”

“She is right mate.” Cassian chimed in.

“I don’t like this.”

“I know.” she purred before claiming his lips with her own. He clung to her, his hands wove their way into her hair while hers clutched the base of his wings.

“I’ll be home before you know it, with Rhysand.”

Azriel nodded and moved out of the way so she could leave the room.

“Look after her, and bring him home.” he whispered to Cassian who gave his brother a quick hug before the seer and commander left the room. 

 

\-----------------------------------

 

They landed silently in the woods, Elain breathed in the musty scent of the trees and dirt. This was the place. They had flown the length of the wall three times before she felt it.

Cassian hadn’t questioned her when she told him to land, after 200 years both himself and the rest of the Night Court knew not to question the Seer. 

“What now?” Cassians voice broke her pondering.

“We walk this way, he should be just behind those trees.” she was whispering, her heart racing not in fear of finding Rhysand this brought her a sense of calm as if finally everything was coming together.

What set her heart racing was knowing the moment her slippered feet touched the Spring Courts ground Lucian, her  _ mate, _ could know she was there. Which was scarier than anything she might else find. She had broken the mating bond quickly with little ceremony and the High Fae had understood but she knew what her being in the woods in the middle of the night would look like to him.

It would look like she had come to him.

Cassian seemed to know what was going on in her head and grabbed her hand. 

“The sooner we get him the sooner you and Az can finish that thing with his creepy shadows.”

She smiled and laughed, “Oh don’t worry we always finish what we start.” and winked at him.

Cassian cursed the Archeron sisters to the Mother and pulled her further into the woods.

“Too much information little sister.” he gruffed out.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, Cassian had opted not to wear his sword or any weapons other than sepons just in case they were come upon by any sentinels. Weaponless he was still deadly but hopefully they would be brought to Tamlin instead of killed on sight.

Elain felt whatever magic brought her visions sung out again and she started to run, Cassian hot on her heels.

She ran and ran till the wall loomed over her, its red brick seemed to glow in the low moon light. Soon the sun would rise and she knew they had to be out of the woods soon. 

_ Where is he?  _ She searched around her but found no high Lord amongst the undergrowth. Cassian spread out around her, his keener eyes taking everything in.

“Elain.” He whispered before sprinting to their right, he fell to his knees sliding along the bushes, his wings spread out. 

She ran after him and took in what laid on the ground.

Rhysand. 

She wanted to laugh or cry. Both seemed like good options but as her eyes took in what she saw all emotions escaped her body. She stumbled closer and fell on an up turned root, something she should have seen. She landed face first and felt her nose break at the force.

But no pain because as she lifted her head, a curse on the tip of her tongue, Rhysand smiled at her.

He was still laying on the ground but his eyes open, bright vibrant eyes that mirrored Hope’s and he smiled at her with shining teeth and dimpled cheeks.

“Hello Beautiful.” he purred. 

Cassian coughed out a laugh, tears freely flowing as he grabbed Rhysands arms and pulled him to his feet. The High Lord looked almost the same, dressed in black trousers and a dress shirt and his hair in perfect place it was almost as if he had never died. 

“God brother, I missed you.” The two Illyrians clung tightly to each other, whispering their hellos so low Elain could barely hear them while she set her nose back into place. While being immortal wasn’t her original life plan she had to admit her healing powers were amazing.

She stood back as Cassian took in the confused Rhys, who kept asking his Commander what was happening, something Cassian did not know how to answer. Casting his eyes on Elain she just shrugged.

Rhysand stepped out of Cassian's arms and rolled his shoulders, finally his violet eyes raked over Elain and she subconsciously wrapped her arms around herself.  _ He’s wrong, _ something in her screamed.  _ So wrong… _

But she smiled besides the voice yelling, she had found Feyre’s mate and everything was going to be okay.

“Who are you then Beautiful?” He glided towards her and the hope building in both Cassian and Elain shattered.

“Shit.” Cassian hissed.

The three stood amongst the woods Elain and Cassian staring at each other while Rhysand takes in his surroundings.

“Wait, Cass why are we in the Spring Court?”

“Yes I would like to know that too.” A voice chimed in behind them. Elain spun around quickly, but she needed no confirmation on who was behind her.

Lucian, her Mate. 

Cassian tried to push his way in front of her, shielding her and Rhysand with his wings. She pushed in front though, not meeting Lucians eyes she sent a message mentally to Cassian.

_ Run, take him and run. Come back for me when you can. _ She was calm as she took another step forward leaving Cassian's arm reach and getting within Lucians.

“Elain-” he hesitated to leave.

_ Go, and Cass….  _ She paused, her eyes taking in the very Male figure of her mate,  _ Don’t tell Az he’s here. _

_ Be Safe.  _ With those two words he shot up into the sky, a stunned Rhysand clinging tightly around his neck.

_ You too  _  she sent a prayer to the Mother before stepping back away from Lucian, who had said nothing as Cassian and the recently not dead Night Lord disappeared.

“Hello.”  Her voice betrayed how her heart was feeling as with one word her voice quivered and shook. She loved Azriel with all her heart and had spent 200 years proving it to everyone and herself, but a part of her, the cauldron made part. Well it loved Lucian, was made to be part of him like part of him was made to be a part of her. 

“Why are you here?” Lucian didn’t try to hide the emotion in his voice, the pain at seeing her after 200 hundred years.

“I can’t tell you.”

“Story of our lives isn’t it, you can’t tell me anything.”

“Lucian…”

“No Elain. You’re bleeding and alone in the forest. Cassian left you here and you’re hurt. I deserve to know why.”

She scoffed, “ _ Deserve!  _ Deserve! I am of the Night Court, I don’t have to tell you anything!”

“I’m your Mate!”

“No, Lucian we have been over this for centuries. I am not your mate and I’m sorry.” She stepped further from him, all the while the invisible bond forged by the cauldron seemed to pull Lucian towards her. He mirrored everyone of her steps until they stood chest to chest. His long fingers hovered over her cheek, to afraid to touch her just in case she disappeared at his touch. Against her own will she leant into this touch, the warmth flowing through her body. Elain closed her eyes, to stop the tears that threatened to flow.

“Lucian, please.” She begged trying to step out of his touch.

“Stay with me.” he whispered, not allowing her to leave his touch.

“I can’t.”

“Because of him?” There was no need for clarification on who the  _ him _ was.

“Because of me. I can’t accept the bond.” She pulled herself away and walked towards the wall.

“When I was pushed out of the cauldron I lost everything I had ever wanted. My life was no longer what I had foreseen in anyway.  I had visions in my head, and a man telling me I was to love him.”

“I never pushed you.”

“No but you existed and I couldn’t escape you. I still can’t. I love Azriel, with my human and fae heart.” There she had said it, the unspoken name that loomed over them. She wanted to feel strong for being able to say her lovers name with no shake or whimper but instead she looked into Lucians eyes and saw the pain. 

The pain of losing her all over again. 

Of knowing that when Cassian came back she would fly off back to her lover and leave him behind.

Suddenly something in Elain snapped, her feet moved under her with no orders from her now foggy mind and before she knew it she found herself in her mates arms. Stretching up onto her toes she gave his cheek the most gentlest of kisses, a whisper of a promise of what could have been.

“Forget me Lucian. Please.” she begged him, her voice shaking in pain as she felt the mating bond once again break with her decline.

Lucian could say nothing, because he knew no words could win her nor any actions. He had lost a battle he had not known he was meant to be fighting till the end.

The two almost lovers stood in silence, taking in each others features with hungry eyes as Cassians wings ripped through the wind above them.

He settled on the ground behind Elain, no sound interrupting the silence the two mates had wrapped themselves in. He slid a gentle arm around her waist, the other sweeping under her knees. Like a hero of a novel she had loved once upon a time he held her tight, his eyes never leaving Lucians. 

“Don’t tell anyone you saw him.”

Lucian smile looked smug on his beautiful face, “Saw who?” 

Cassian smiled back, teeth clenched under lips. He knew Lucian had seen the confused High Lord and was filing his silence away to use at a later date.

Elain said nothing as she gently placed her head against Cassains shoulder, an unspoken signal for them to leave.

Cassian nodded his farewell to the Fox like lord and shot up to the sky.

 

The flight back little time as Cassian bea his own personal record, they landed on top of the townhouse on the far side of island Azriel and Elain called home.

No words needed to be spoken as they both ran down the old fire escape stairs to enter the bedroom through the window.

The sight before them could almost have been laughable, Azriel was standing by the wardrobe wringing one of Elains camisoles with his scarred hands, Nesta who must have arrived while Elain was away was standing with her back against the bedroom door, a look of fear and anger drawn on her beautiful face. And Rhysand, he was laid across their bed his head resting on an overstuffed floral pillow, his hands resting gently on his stomach.

 

\----------------------

 

“What happened?” Elain asked, wrapping her small hand through Azriel leaning on him for comfort.

“Your sister put Rhysand into a small coma.” Anger laced every word that fell from Azs mouth as he glared daggers at Nesta who had wrapped her own arms around Cassian's arm.

“It’s not a coma! I just made him sleep for a bit.” 

“Why?” Cassian asked, his fingers dancing along Nestas forearm.

“Because I come in here demanding to know where you went and instead of my runaway mate I find Azriel and a totally not dead Rhysand having a staring competition. I panicked.”

Elain stifled a laugh, “You panicked and now Rhys is in a coma?”

“Sleeping! Not a coma!”

“Why?”

“Because there was a not dead in anyway Rhysand standing in your bedroom.”

“So you panicked?”

“YES! Why am I the only one panicking? Elain, Rhysand is sleeping on your bed.”

“I know, I knew he was here.”

Nesta blinked slowly taking in the small nods from her mate and Az.

“You all knew?”

“Yes, but we didn’t want to get anyones hopes up.”

“Hopes up?”

“Nes, I had a vision that the High Lord of the Night Court had come back from the dead. Would you have believed me?”

Nesta thought for the moment, taking in Elains truthful eyes and Azriel and Cassians shared looks of childlike joy. Their brother was home.

“No I wouldn’t have believed you. Now though, what are we going to do with him?”

“I don’t know.” The two couples stood clinging to each other as they looked at the quietly snoring Rhys.

“Uncle Az, can you help me?” A voice called from the window and they all jumped. Standing on the landing was the said snoring Rhys daughter. With her hands on her hips and wings spread out around her she almost blocked out the morning sun.

“Who's that?” She asked as she leant down through the window.

Azriel looked Elain, who looked at Nesta who looked at Cassian for an answer. Cassian however was looking at the ceiling. 

“Where am I?” Rhysand purred as he stirred awake from the bed.

“Oh my stars!” Hope cried out, hands flying to her face, “is that -” she couldn’t finish her sentence as she fainted.

“Nesta!”

“I didn’t do that!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.  
> You can also find me on Tumblr : queen-sansa--stark  
> Read and review or Kudos or what ever


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Night Court work out how to deal with a newly resurrected Rhysand

Chapter Three

 

The Morning sun was shining all over the Arts Quarter of the Island, Feyre lifted her face towards the rising sun feeling its warmth almost immediately. Her wings still fully formed behind her shaked out in the rays casting coloured shadows on the walls that a small child was currently running her fingers over. 

Feyre smiled as the little girl laughed at the wings movements, her short black curls reminded the High Lady of her own Daughter at that age. With her unruly curls and infectious giggle she was the moon that lit Feyres world.

She kept walking down the street waving her greetings to the people who had become her extended family casting her own eyes around the crowd looking for Hope.

Her daughter was many things, loud, vibrant, a troublemaker and a great arguer but mostly she took after Feyre. She took to the paintbrush better than anything else, colours and lines coming as naturally to her as breathing or flying. And today was meant to be the day she signed the paperwork on her new gallery. An event Feyre and Hope had been waiting for with bated breath so when Feyre showed up at the gallery a bottle of Champagne in hand she was sadly disappointed to find an empty gallery bar a note.

Sorry Mum,

Gone to get Uncle Az to help with the nails already broke one wall on my own.

See you soon, H x

Which is how Feyre found herself wandering the streets, bottle still in her hands. She had wanted to spend the whole day with her daughter, helping set up each display and drinking with her till the sun went down. And to tell her it was time. 

After two hundred years of living without her mate Feyre was tired. Her bones ached with age she did not show, with exhaustion of living with only half her soul. 

“Hopes ready.” she whispered to the wind as she took in the river below her, its waters lapping lazily at its banks. As she closed her eyes she felt the wind caress her cheeks and open wings while the memories of Rhysand took over her entire being, a habit she had been letting happen more and more often since the bond went silent. She remembered the feel of his fingers on her skin, tracing patterns that left her hair raised and her soul content.

“I will see you soon Rhysand.” she promised to the water, the sun and everything around her.

Not if I don't see you first his voice was like a burn to her whole body, Feyre dropped with champagne bottle, glass shattering around while the fizzy alcohol drenched her slip-on flats. She felt down the bond, the obsidian wall was still raised between her and any part of Rhysand but it felt weaker, as if cracking in parts. She pushed against it, hoping her mind was strong enough but while she felt a small amount of give the wall still stood.

But the truth was still there, Rhysand had spoken to her, somehow. Even after 200 years in Death he was still surprising her.

“I am going to kill you Old Man.” she whispered to the universe as laughter filled her body. And for the first time in over 200 years Feyre had a dream like thought, Could Rhysand be alive?

 

\-----------------

 

“Someone really needs to tell Mor and Amren.” Elain said, still taking in the sight of a half awake Rhysand and a passed out Hope. The two males in the room shot their hands up a chorus of “Not doing it” escaped their lips.

Nesta huffed through her nose, staring down her mate and Azriel. 

“I’ll do it, but I am warning you. We need to tell Feyre.”

Again the Males were in agreement nodding furiously, their eyes never leaving Rhysand. 

“We will do it.” Azriel said, “We know how she is going to be feeling.”

Nesta agreed, bending down she summoned from Elains living room a cushion to place under their nieces head.

“No.” the words escaped Elains lips before she could register what she was meaning, her mind screaming at her to remember the feeling from the woods.

He is wrong! It screamed, Something is wrong.

Three heads swiveled to look at her, confusion in almost every shade as their eyes bared down on her.

“We can’t tell her yet, not until we know for sure he is who was think he is.” Her voice was still so meek, so afraid that the truth would set them off.

“Why?” Nesta said through clenched teeth, red rimming her eyes. Anger was still one of Nesta’s main personality traits.

“I found him, saw him, however you want to say it, and he didn’t recognise me Nes. Nothing, Cassian can tell you.” The warrior still holding Nestas arm nodded.

“Maybe your sister is right, maybe telling Feyre now before we have all the information won’t be in her best interests, or Rhys.”

Azriel and Nesta looked at their family in shook, the words Cassian and Elain said were not sinking in.

“And Hope? Does she not deserve to meet her father? Are you going to snatch that away from her? Elain! This is not how our family does things! Or do you just like the idea of Feyre also not being with her mate?” The words fell heavily from Nestas lips before she could pull them back. 

The four fell into a heavy silence as Elain blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. While Elain had always been aware of Nestas anger it was rare her barbed tongue was pointed at the Seer.

“I am going to tell Mor and Amren, when I return with them we will discuss telling Feyre.” her words wobbled as she departed the room, turning to look over her shoulder she said, “Hope needs to be told of course, she is going to be our High Lady sooner rather than later.” With that she left her bedroom, pulling her arms around her. She tried hard to not mind that Azriel had stayed in the room with everyone making no action to follow.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

After sending two messages off quickly Elain waiting in the Tower, pacing in silent. Her mind screaming against her skull.

If he is wrong what do we do?

How do I tell Feyre I think her mate has been brought back wrong?

Will she forgive me?

Will Azriel forgive me?

The last one hit her like a ton of bricks, would the male who decided to spend the rest of his immortal life with her ever forgive her for thinking what she is thinking. She wanted to cry, to fall back into the fog she wrapped herself in during the months after she had escaped the cauldron. Goddess help her she was lost.

 

Elain was pulled from her dark thoughts as Mor and Amren entered the room. The Morrigan was an already imposing figure and today was no different. Elain always thought the air charged itself when it embraced Mor causing every hair on the seers body to stand on edge in fear and excitement. Amren while now only fae still brought her own energy to each room and her presence still filled every space. The two looked more than just a little wary as they took Elains pacing state and it dawned on her, this was the first time just the three on them had been in a room together. 

While the sisters had taken to Nestas fiery personality, both women found Elain to be unnerving as she let off an aura of Calm wherever she went.

They greeted each other as they fell into a more than awkward silence.

Elain fumbled with her hands, wringing her engagement ring from Azriel around and around.

“Thank you for coming,” her voice was so quiet the two females leant in to hear, “This morning Cassian and I went to the spring court because I had a vision. Rhysand is alive.” the words fumbled out and the two predator fae took in the tale. Mor looked in shock and had to find comfort in the overstuffed armchair. 

“So he is alive.” she said it more of a statement than a question, Elain nodded anyway confirming it more for herself then the two predators before her.

Amren smiled, her canines exposed as her grin sent a cool vibe out into the room.

“I knew it!” She whispered more to herself than her companions.

Mors eyes drilled into Maren, “What do you mean you knew it?”

“Why do you think I demanded he be buried there, why I demanded he be buried at all?”

Elain joined Mor with falling into an overstuffed chair, “You said it was because his final resting place would bring peace to all the courts and the human worlds, martyring him.” 

Amrens solid silver eyes rolled as she let out a dry laugh.

“I lied, we built the wall with fae magic, every court had to give a little of themselves over to the foundations. Merging all the magic is dangerous but useful, think of how Feyre was made. Every high lord gave their powers to make her, it took only a handful of moments because the magic was working with a dead human, practically putty for it to mould. But Rhysand, Rhys, he was a god amongst the fae. The magic wouldn’t know how to begin to remake him which is why it wouldn’t touch him on the battlefield. But I changed the playing field, I forced all that magic to touch him, to absorb every fiber of Rhys into the fae magics being and then made it so it had nowhere to go but back into his body.”

Elain was silent, she curled in on herself, why had she not seen Amrens plan. While Elain sat in shocked awe, Mor was fuming, her hands gripped the armchair so tight her nails busted the fabric and her eyes seemed to drill into the door. 

“You knew this would happen and you didn’t tell me.” she whispered.

“I didn’t tell anyone, I wasn’t sure it would work. Don’t take it personally.”

A laugh fell from Mors lips and suddenly everyone in the room was aware as to why the Morrigan had the reputation she had.

Without blinking she rose from the chair and in one swift move had her perfectly manicured hand wrapped around Amrens neck.

“Don’t take it personally?” she hissed, her canines digging into her bottom lip. “He is my family, and you kept this from me.” 

“I kept it from everyone, if I had said what could happen Feyre would of stood by the wall for years. She would have ignored us, the court and Hope. I did what I thought was right. And look it worked!”

Elain cleared her throat, the violence had sent her further against the wall, trying to hid in the shadows, “Not exactly, he is back but he is off…” her voice trailing as Mor let go on Amrens neck and the predators eyes fell to her once again.

“What?”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The two brothers and Nesta stared at the sleeping father and daughter. Elains exit had made their silence awkward as they all processed the morning they had been having.

Cassian was the first to break the silence, is large shoulder slumping, “He looks so peaceful.” 

“He looks like the Mountain never happened.” Az whispered, unable to drag his eyes from Rhysands sleeping form.

Nesta knelt down to push the hair from Hopes face, the young fae stirred and smiled as she shifted in her sleep. Nesta remembered a time while Hope had been small when everyone would cram into Hopes bedchamber just to watch her sleep, her sleeping expression was one of calm and peace. She had never known pain, or anger and it showed in everything the young heiress did.

“I have tell Feyre.” she whispered, and behind her she knew the Males where nodding, Cassian more reluctantly than Azriel. 

“Elain won’t be happy.” 

“Elain doesn’t rule this court, and she is always looking to the future but not the present. I love her but she doesn’t understand this.” 

“We should tell her together.” Azriel said but NEsta shook her head.

“No it has to be me. I don’t know what she will do with this information.”

Again the three fell silent before Nesta rose elegantly to her feet, with one last look at her mate whose eyes never found hers as he took in his brothers form.

“Boys,” She smirked at them, “Rhysands back, no matter how or why, this is going to be s very good thing.”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Nesta found Feyre on the bridge leading to the arts quarter, she was leaning against the side smiling up at the sky. She hesitated to interrupt her peace, as feyre shifted away her wings, shaking her shoulders free of the phantom limbs. No matter how many years go by the fact Feyre could make her wings appear and disappear was still highly unnerving.

The High Lady lent further against the wall as the water below started to crash violently against the bridges support columns, the mist sprayed her face as she closed her eyes and took the feeling of the cold water hitting her face in. She was feeling everything so intensely as she repeated Rhys words back over and over again.

Not if I don't see you first

Not if I don't see you first

Not if I don't see you first

He was back, she knew it with every fiber of her being, she just didn’t know how she could provide it.

Nesta cleared her throat and grabbed her sisters shoulder pulling her into a bone crushing hug. Feyre stilled, she had never been embraced like this by her sister before and she hesitantly hugged back.

“Nesta, listen to me, this is crazy but-” Feyre couldn’t finish her sentence before Nesta cut her off.

“Rhysands alive.”

“I know!” she exclaimed back before freezing and pulling herself from her sisters arms, “Wait? How do you know that?”

“He may or may not be asleep in Elains bed right now.”

Feyre didn’t wait to hear anymore, before her wings erupted around her and she shot into the sky.


	5. Chapter Four

Rhysand woke with a pounding headache, black dots forming as he took in the grey ceiling above him. A groan escaping his lips as he tried his best to sit up straight. 

“What did I drink last night?” he whispered to himself before his eyes caught the two figures before him. His brothers in arms Azriel and Cassian both looked as if they had been a ghost with their eyes almost glowing white with shock.

“Cass? Az?” he questioned pulling himself from the bed, Azriels bed he noted. “What happened?”

Rhysand couldn’t help but notice the blank look Cassian threw the Shadow-singers way and the small nudge that almost caused Azriel to lose his footing.

“Well,” he started out before all three males attention was drawn to the girl laying on the floor.

“Who's that?” Rhysand asked, some part of him felt a sudden urge to wrap his arms around the sleeping girl- female, she is fae look at the wings some part of his mind screamed. 

Cassian and Azriel again looked at each other as if performing a Mummers act. Then Cassian seemed to jump into action, with one swift move he picked up the sleeping fae, nestling her gently in his arms, her wings tucked tight to her back. The Lord of the Night Court couldn’t help to smile at the perfect discipline it would have taken to train her wings even in her sleep.

“Her names Hope.” Cassian whispered, a lump forming in his throat that matched the tears that were threatening to fall. “We named her Hope.”

The warrior turned on his heels and left the room, leaving Rhysand with Azriel and more questions than before.

 

Azriel felt his wings slump behind him, his eyes unable to tear themselves away from the Male in front of him. Rhysand was alive, and breathing and talking.

“Fuck.” the curse escaped before he could even register.

“Az you have to tell me what happened last night? Who in the gods is Hope? And since when did you have fresh cut flowers on your vanity? - Scratch that when did you get a vanity?”

“Elain, she brings in the flowers. We are together now, she broke the mating bond.”

Rhys smiled, his canines gleaming in the sunshine as he brought Azriel into a bone crushing hug, “That's amazing brother! I can’t wait to meet her!”

Confusion sent Azriel reeling from the embrace.

“Rhys, its Elain. You’ve met her.”

“Was it last night? Seriously mate how much did you let me drink?”

“Not last night, years ago. Rhysand she’s Feyres sister.”

No sign of recognition flashed on Rhys face, his broad grin however did falter.

“Feyre,” he rolled the word on his tongue, it felt familiar and unknown all that the same time “-was she the redhead at the summer court?”

Azriel retreated even further away from his friend, Elains fears seemed to be true. Rhysand didn’t know who Feyre was. He had come back wrong. 

“Rhys, I think you need to sit down.”

“Why?”

“Because it's been two hundred years since I last saw you you Idiot.”

Of all the reactions the Shadow-singer was expecting, the heartfelt belly roar of a laugh was not one of them. He knew that laugh, had spent most of his adolescent life hearing and embracing it. But since the mountain, the spring court and the war he hadn’t heard Rhysand laugh like that in the year that led up to his death. It brought a smile to his lips and broke his heart all at the same time.

“Good one!”

“It's not a joke Rhysand, you died saving the world. You have been dead. I buried you.”

Rhysand looked shocked and his heartfelt frozen solid in his chest, I was dead the words made no sense, he couldn’t have died.

“How?” he whispered coursly. 

Azriel slowly blinked trying to find the words, words that would make sense but it seemed like every language he knew was avoiding him. He opened his lips to make no noise.

“Please tell me this is a joke Az?”

“Mate, this whole day has felt like a bad joke but it’s not. You were dead, you died trying to keep the Cauldron together.”

“The Cauldron?”

“Yeah - I am explaining this wrong.” Azriel moved away from Rhysand and slumped onto the side of the bed, his head in his hands, and his shoulders shaking he couldn’t hide the tears that were freely falling. He felt the mattress dip as Rhysand took a seat next to him, and Azriel pulled him tight, crushing the newly resurrected High Lord as he sobbed into the males shoulder.

“You selfish bastard! You died on us! You saved the world again and left us. Left me.” 

Rhysand sat there patting his brothers shoulder as the tears fell and felt his own heart break. He had no idea what was happening or why but he had never seen Azriel cry.

“Az, I am here. I’m alive.” he muttered into the Shadow-singers hair, as he clung to him. They sat in silence, Azriel taking in Rhysands breathing form mirroring his every breath and sending a pray to the cauldron in thanks. 

The door swung open with a thud, sending both males to their feet, wings flared and fists raised they stared at the intruder.

Azriel took in the pale face of his High Lady, her eyes widen in shock and her whole body was shaking as she stopped dead in her tracks. Her full lips fell open as a tiny exhale escaped. Azriel smiled weakly at her, his tears still falling as he saw her grey eyes fill. He ran to her side just as her knees gave out, her eyes not leaving Rhysand.

“Hello?” the High Lord said weakly, unsure on how to approach this female who obviously was in the middle of an emotional break down.

She stared him down, unblinking as Azriel helped her to her feet. Rhysand couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was, with her large grey eyes that seemed to glimmer blue through her tears, her pointed cheekbones and nose gave her a look of elegance that made his stomach flip. But it was the way she pulled herself together that made his stomach flip, she shook off Azriel’s hands of comfort and pulled her shoulders back. Her long hair fell off her shoulders and her chin tilted up as she smiled at Az.

“So Nesta wasn’t lying.” she purred out as she embraced her friend, “Leave us for a moment. I need to yell at him in private.”

“He doesn’t know Elain - Feyre-” his voice broke as he tried to force the sentence out, “He doesn’t know you.”

She swallowed the vile that threatened to escape, Feyre stood staring at her Mate. He looked just the same as he had done when the cauldron had taken him. His hair seemed to blow in the non-existent wind and his eyes, they seemed to stare right into her soul.

She stepped forward, out of Azriels embrace and found herself 2 feet from the High Lord. Every breath she took felt like it was trying to burst from her chest, and it felt like her wings were trying to burst from her spine to wrap him into her body and never let him go.

“Hello Beautiful.” he purred, confusion sketched across his face but on his lips a smirk danced. 

Before anyone in the room could realize what was happening, Feyres hand swung out and slapped the unsuspecting High Lord. He fell backwards onto the bed in shock.

“You Bastard!” she seethed through clenched teeth, “You bastard!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but Sweet.  
> Next Chapter: Feyre and Rhys have a chat. Hope and Cassian have a chat. Elain and Az probably won't


	6. Chapter five

Chapter Five  
The noise of Feyres hand colliding with Rhysands cheek sent a silence that could almost be felt in the far reaches of the Night Court. It sent a power wave over the island, the waters and deep into the Court of Nightmares.  
“You lied to me, you left me! You promised not to hurt me and you did.” she cried out as she brought up her open palm to slap him again, but this time the High Lord was ready for her and caught her small wrist in his hand. He pulled her wrist down with little effort as she was stunned by the heat she felt off his body and by the breath on her face, he was warm and breathing and suddenly she left a laugh bubble in her stomach and take over her whole body.  
“You bastard,” she breathed out, “you actually came back. Two hundred years of anticipation! Oh my Moons.” She couldn't stop the laughter falling from her lips, her sides ached and tears of happiness kept falling.  
“Az! The overgrown Bats back!” she turned to the Shadowsinger and brought him into a hug.  
He looked at her with confusion, unable to register why she was laughing.  
“Feyre?” Rhysand tried her name out on his tongue, rolling each letter and syllable, her name felt good on his vocal cords like the feeling of coming home after a long day.  
“Rhysand.” she whispered back, she closed her eyes and felt down her mating bond, the wall of obsidian was still standing mocking her as Rhysands scent was filling the room. She pushed further against the wall with all her mental might.   
She pushed.  
And pushed.  
Till she heard a small grunt come from Rhysand that sent her eyes wide open.  
“Did you feel that?” she said with so much hope in her voice it made Azrials stomach drop even further.  
Rhysand rubbed his hands over his eyes, “What did you do to me?” distrust showing in his eyes as he took a step away.  
“It's the mating bond, it’s still there. It always has been, you just need to let me in.” she stepped further towards him but he stiffened and she backed off, her hands raised as if facing an angry bear.  
“This has been a long day for you, rest and we can talk later. We have all the time in the universe.” she patted his arm and went to leave.  
“I know you don’t understand yet, but we love each other a lot. And we made a perfect family together.”  
He nodded, still leaning against the wall furthest away from her.  
“I want to see Amren.” he said.  
“I’ll send for her, I promise.”  
Feyre and Azriel turned to leave, and as they closed the door they heard Rhysand let out a long sigh and then whisper “Feyre.” one last time.

\----------------------  
In no short amount of time the whole inner circle found themselves in Azriel and Elains living room, the room that was already overfilled with bookshelves, overstuffed armchairs and small flowers in pots was almost suffocating with the amount of bodies and wings taking up the space. Elain plotted around the others, pushing everything against the walls and away from uncontrolled wings. Doing her best not to look at Azriel, whose eyes hadn’t left her since he entered the room with an unusually quiet Feyre.

Hope laid on the only couch, her breath slowly becoming uneven as she took her time to wake up. Mor had Hopes head in her lap, slowly brushing the females curls through her fingers. Amren stood by the door, her whole body radiating energy as she hoped from foot to foot and her grey eyes kept darting behind her to stare at the stairs.

Azriel and Cassian stood side by side with Feyre in the middle, flanking their leader as she stood staring at the wall above Hopes head.   
“I’m going to start with a thank you,” Feyre said finally breaking her silence, “Thank you Elain. For finding him. Where did you find him?”  
“Spring court.” Elain said, quietly again purposely looking out the window, the flowers she had planted just yesterday had already started to bloom, she could feel Ariel's eyes on her back. His gaze felt different to Lucians this morning, Lucians gaze had been one of promises and dreams unfilled, but Ariel's eyes made her feel uncomfortable for the first time in 200 years, like she had betrayed him this morning.  
“Any issues there I have to deal with?”  
Cassian and Elain shared a look and shook their head, Feyre didn’t need to know about Lucian just yet.  
“Okay then. Rhysand-” the High Lady’s voice croaked out the name as if she still could not believe they were all having this conversation, “-seems to have amnesia or something affecting his memory. Amren, he wants to see you since you were his second. Find out where he remembers up too and report back. I am working on the bond on my end but it won’t move so something is blocking it.”  
Amren bowed her head at Feyre and went to move up the stairs when Feyre called out her name.  
“You had something to do with his return.” It was a statement, not a question, “We will discuss that later.” she smiled humorlessly at her Second. And a shiver dared to go down Amrens back.   
“Yes my lady.” she said curtly before disappearing.  
Mor looked away from the sleeping female on her lap and with tears in her eyes she smiled at Feyre, “How do we tell him about Hope?”  
“We don’t.”  
The two words from Feyres lips froze the whole court and her two guards stepped back from her in shock.  
“What?” Mor whispered.  
“Until I know he is who we think he is, he goes nowhere near my daughter.”   
Elain smiled at her sister, her face mirrored Elains from that morning her eyes focused and clear. And once again Elain was reminded that while Feyre was her baby sister she was older than both her and Nesta.  
“No.” Nesta whispered, from her spot in the shadow of the corner.  
“Nesta-” Elain started.  
“No Elain, he is her father Feyre. She has a right to meet him!” Nesta said her words carefully but the anger behind them felt like daggers to the Archeon sisters hearts.  
“She is a child, and he is not her father. He may not even be my mate.”  
“Feyre!” Mor and Nesta gasped together.  
“No, you are my family and I love you all but this - this is about me and my daughter.” she stressed out the word and saw the sting in Mor and Nestas eyes at her words. For two hundred years they had all raised the daughter of the High Lord they had loved and lost. The whole court had pulled all nighters as the little winged babe teethed through the night. They had all been there for her first flight and her first date (which someone of them admit may have been to far) but never had Feyre pulled the ‘my daughter’ card.  
“I understand.” Elain said as she pulled Feyre into a much needed hug.  
“I don’t.” Nesta muttered under her breathe as she folded her arms and leant back again the wall.  
Elain turned and snapped, “For once in your life Nesta, keep your mouth shut!”  
Everyone blinked at the usually quiet Seer yelling at her sister. Hope stirred on the couch and finally opened her eyes.  
“Wow - I had the weirdest dream.” she muttered as she swung her long legs off the couch and sat up.  
“Sweetie, we need to talk.” Feyre knelt down and rested her hands on Hopes knees.  
“Would it be by any chance about my not-so dead father in Uncle Az’s room?”  
“Yep that would be the conversation.”  
Silence hung in the air as everyone stared at Hope, her eyes wide in shock, then strunched in confusion then just looked sad as she stared at the mother.  
“How are you?” she whispered, bringing her hand up to rest on her mums cheek. Feyre leant into the touch and smiled broadly at her daughter tears again filling her eyes.  
“I have no idea, but for now we wait and see.”  
“When can I meet him?”  
“I don’t know - he’s- he is different from before.”  
Hope nodded, “Plus it must be super weird to wake up two hundred years after dying and finding out you have a daughter.” her frank words caused a bark of laughter from Cass who had been silent up until this point.  
“Kid you are way too adjusted to everything.” he said as he put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it.  
“You would think I would be a basketcase after being raised by you lot wouldn’t you?” She rose from the couch and hugged every member of her family.  
“I can wait, I spent two hundred years without a father, whats a couple more days?”   
“Hope, if we can’t get his memories back -”  
“He won’t ever know who I am?”  
“Yeah.” Feyres heart broke as Hope held her head up high and smiled weakly as she blinked away the tears that threatened to fall.  
“He wouldn’t know who I was either way. And that's okay, because I know who I am. The future High Lady of the Night Court and the daughter of the first High Lady ever.” Mother and daughter hugged each other tight, Hope resting her head on Feyres shoulder and breathed in. It was hard to forget sometimes that the High Lady and her daughter only had an age difference of 20 years. In Faye terms Feyre would have been barely out of childhood herself but the rules change for the Made Archeron sisters.   
“I love you.” Feyre whispered in her daughters ear, “Me and you against the world?”  
“Forever.” she promised before stepping backwards. Hope took her family in, their slumped posture and mixed emotions.  
“Bring me back my Dad so I can scare him with dates later, okay?”   
They all nodded as she flared her wings and made her exit from the open window.  
“Not through the window!” Feyre huffed, smiling at the shrinking figure of her daughter in the sky.  
\-----------------  
Amren didn’t hesitate as she pulled Azriel's bedroom door open.  
The sight that greeted her brought a smile to her face, Rhysand was pacing, wings flared around him working a groove into the carpet as he stalked.   
“Elain will be mad if you ruin her carpet, it’s new.” she said instead of greeting, she had never been one for small talk.  
Rhysand stopped when she spoke, and she felt her smile widen.  
“It’s good to see death hasn’t made you any less pretty.”  
His eyebrow rose as he took her in, and under his scrutiny she could feel him notice the changes in her appearance.  
“Well something's changed with you.”  
“I’m immortal, and not like I was.”  
“How?”  
“I died, but unlike some people I didn’t take two hundred years to come back.”  
“So it's not a joke?” a small amount of hope laced his words.  
“Nope, you died. I brought you back, you’re welcome.”  
Silence fell as Rhysand took a seat back on the bed, confusion etched all over his face.  
“How?”  
“The wall fell, you died, I buried you under the new wall, you came back. That's pretty much it.”  
“Amren.”  
“Rhysand.”  
“I need more than that.”  
“I have nothing else to give you without Feyres permission.”  
“I am the High Lord of the Night Court!” he bellowed, angry now pulsing through his veins, the feeling felt different and uncomfortable under his skin, “Who is she to dictate what you tell me?”  
“The High Lady of the Night Court.”  
“What?”  
“Yeah you went soft in your old age, made her your equal. It was romantic or something.”  
Amren moved further into the room, her long black dress sweeping the floor as she stood over Rhys.  
“What do you remember?”  
“What?”   
“The last thing you remember before waking up?”  
“Dinner, drinks, a lot of drinks and dancing.”  
“That's not helpful Rhys! I need to know what you remember!”  
“We were drinking because tomorrow- today- oh I don’t know- I was going to visit Amarantha.”  
“Shit.” and suddenly Amren know which Rhys they were dealing with, after the mountain he had been cautious, almost overly so when it came to any decision. But before the mountain, he had been radical, anger being his leading emotion at all times. Feyre had been the cooling patch on his emotions, that and Amren knew the psychological aftermath of Amarantha treatment hadn’t been much better.  
“How much have I lost?”  
“Fifty one years, and they were some intense ones to say the lease.”  
“Can you get them back?”  
Amren wondered on the words, trying to figure out if she should be smart and lie or tell the truth and deal with the backlash.  
She picked the least smart option.  
“I have no idea, but I do love a puzzle.” The smile that she sent her High Lord almost made him lean back. It was a promise he wasn’t sure he wanted fulfilled.

\-------------------------------  
“Hey kiddo.” Cassian’s booming voice broke Hope’s train of thought as she stood on the roof of the House of Wind.  
The island looked so small from here and for a moment she could almost imagine everything was normal, that her gallery was open with faye all milling about, her mum helping out with sales and painting in the back, and her dad was not recently resurrected.  
She smiled at Cassian and looped one arm around his waist in a hug, she leant all her weight onto his side and snuggled in. He pulled her closer, and breathed a sigh of relief.  
“So big day huh?”  
“Not everyday my dad comes back to life.” she muttered.  
“Are we okay with him being back?”  
“If I say no - will you put him back where he came from?” she joked and Cassian laughed, the sound soothed Hopes soul.  
“If you want, I always did beat him in a fight.”  
“That's not what Uncle Azriel says.”  
“He is a liar!”  
“In all seriousness, Uncle Cass, I am going to be fine. But I am worried about mum. I never knew her with him but Aunt Mor said she was different -” her voice trailed off as she brought her large grey eyes up to look at Cassian.  
“Your mum was different with Rhys, but she was still the same. It’s hard to explain but Hope listen to me. Your mum will put you first no matter what.” the unspoken part of his sentence hung between them, they all would put her first.  
“Thank you Uncle Cass. I heard what mum said, about me being her daughter and all that. But I need you to know something. I didn’t grow up without a dad, I grew up with two. You and Uncle Az -” tears welled as she clung tighter to the warrior next to her, “- you two are my dads. You raised me, and I can’t thank you enough. And if Rhysand can’t accept me, I will be okay with that, because I have you.”  
Cassian blinked away tears, “I love you Kiddo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hows everyone Feeling? The new books been released and I finished it the other day - not sure how I am feeling. But the Elain and Az scenes were great!


	7. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING- This has mentions and paragraphs about Rhysands time with Amarantha, it's not pretty and you can skip it if you like. I think you will still get the idea of what's going on.

Rhysand stood in the main room of the House of Wind, Azriel had flown him silently there as the sun had set and left him with nothing more than a sad look over his shoulder.

The old building was very much the same as he remembered, high ceilings, rugs of all colours covering the cold tiles. For a moment he felt sane, normal, as if the whole day hiding in Azriel's room was nothing short of a bad dream.

He walked slowly through the corridors, running a hand over new items, taking stock of the world. He knew he was a prisoner in his own home but for some reason, he couldn’t quite put his finger on he didn’t feel threatened.

He stopped in front of the painting, the oil colours seemed to call out his name as he took it in. Brush strokes showed stars falling from the sky, as fae below danced. Although the painting was still, it was almost as if he could see the twinkle of the stars and the movement in the dresses. 

Cocking his head to the side, he took in the middle dancers, the male with his wings tucked in tight and the female, she danced tightly in her partners arms, her blue dress floating around her heels.

“It’s pretty amazing isn’t it?” a voice said interrupting his thoughts. He turned slowly, knowing the voice but still afraid to turn. Rhysand took in his cousin, she looked so much like she had the last time he had seen her. Her blonde hair hung lose over her shoulders and her head was held high as she smiled with her whole face. 

“I was wondering when you were going to find me.”Mor pulled him into a hug, holding him tight as he turned it.

“I missed you so much.” she whispered into his neck, breathing him in as if afraid he would disappear in her arms. The cousins clung to each other, Mor’s nails pinching Rhys back as she tried to pull him closer. He could hear her quiet sobs but opted out of mentioning it.

Mor pulled away first, she wiped her eyes and put on a bright smile.

“So how was it being dead?”

The question brought a laugh to Rhysands lips, “Still as tackless as ever.”

They started walking away from the mesmerizing painting and headed towards the roof.

“What else don’t I remember?” 

“A lot, more than I can put into words.”

“Who is Feyre?”

“Your mate and the High Lady of the Night court.” 

Rhysand resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “I know that, apparently we were in love or something. But Mor, in all seriousness who is she? What court is she from? Whose her family?”

“It's complicated.”

“That's all I have heard since I woke up this morning from a two hundred year long nap.”

Mor sighed and stopped walking, she looked around the hallway as if looking for someone to rescue her from the conversation. 

“Feyre wasn’t always fae, she was made. She was a human, brought onto our lands by Tamlin. Once upon a time it was him that she loved.”

“So my mate was Tamlins - what- his mistress?” he spat the word mate, the word dripping poison from his lips.

“I can’t explain this to you, Rhys. There’s a whole chunk of your life with her that I just can’t explain. I wasn’t under the mountain with you.”

“Under the mountain?”

The words hung between them for the longest moment, Mor held her breathe and eyes widened.

“You don’t remember?”

“Remember what?”

“What happened to you?”

“What happened to me?”

“I can’t say it.”

“Please Mor, I am sinking here.” His eyes filled with tears as he wrung his hands in a nervous tick Mor hadn’t seen since their youth.

“You don’t remember being Amarantha’s whore?” the curse was whispered and Mor flinched as the word settled between them.

The words hit Rhysand right in his heart and he stepped back. Pain sliced through his head, blinding for the briefest moment before he blinked aware the darkness, but Mor wasn’t there.

Instead of the comfort of the House of Wind he found himself standing in a cavernous room, the walls dripped red satin. The floor was covered in fur rugs and the only furnishing was a large canopied bed.

He moved closer, though he made no action of stepping forward, it was as if his whole body was drawn towards the bed. 

A figure laid across the satin bedspread, arms bound above his head and ankles tied to the bottom beam. The body was naked and twisting in discomfort. As Rhysand felt himself get pulled closer, the body turned towards him and his own eyes stared back at him.

“No.” he whispered, trying to walk away but his feet stayed put.

“Well, well, well, don’t we make a pretty picture.” a woman's voice purred behind him and he swung around. She stood taller than himself, thin as a rake with hair that seemed to bleed red.

His blood ran icey as she moved towards him, her body draped in a black silk dressing gown that set her pale skin aglow. Rhysand tried to run as he took in the fear screaming out of his own eyes. Dream Rhys fought against the bonds, his wrists red raw as they rubbed against the restraints.

“Calm down my pet.” the woman purred, as she sat sideways along the bed, a sharp nail dragging over Dream Rhys chest. “If you behave I’ll let your friends live.”

Rhys watched himself still, he closed his eyes and lowed his breathing and in that moment he saw the decision he had made. Lay still, and save everyone.

The memory pulled away from him and suddenly images flashed before him.

His own body writhing in pain.

Blood spilling from his stomach, arms and neck.

Bones breaking in awkward positions.

Every memory sent Rhysand back, the memories settling in his mind like bricks forming a wall, all he could think of was the memories and the pain. 

More flashed and flashed by until he felt it.

Something ran against the wall, it sounded like nails on a chalkboard and it ripped him from his own mind, the wall tumbling from its unstable foundations.

The brightness of the House of Wind was shocking and he had to blink away the painful black dots that were forming. 

Mor was hovering behind him and suddenly the thought of anyone at his back was nauseating, he scrambled away his back hitting the wall and his knees buckling. 

“Feyre?” Mor whined painfully, and Rhysands eyes snapped from his cousins to the female next to her.

Feyre.

Again he found himself vulnerable in her presence.

“It was just a memory, you’re here Rhys.” her voice was like the noise that had brought him out of his memory, nails on the chalkboard.

“Get out of my head.” he seethed through his clenched teeth, his legs still weak from the shock of his memories were uncooperative as he tried to stand. He fell back onto the floor, breathing heavily.

“I can’t help it,it’s the bond.”

“There is no bond!” he stressed back to her, and as soon as the words left him lips he saw the pain cross her beautiful face. Her grey eyes turned away from him, tears forming quickly as she tried to blink them away. She took shallow breaths as she attempted to regain control of her emotions. 

“I am your mate, I’ve waited two hundred years for you, I can wait however long it takes for you to get it into your thick skull.” The words hung around them like an uncomfortable blanket.

Rhysand didn’t know what to say, the feelings from his memories still whispered over his skin and the thought of this female he did not know, knowing him in anyway almost sent him into a catatonic state.

“I want to sleep.” he whispered, turning his attention to Mor instead of Feyre.

His cousin nodded and reached a hand for his, he took it tentatively and she pulled him up.

They walked away in silence, leaving Feyre alone in the hallway.

 

\-------------

 

“Elain?”

Azriels voice dragged Elain from her own mind, sitting in their now empty lounge room she had snuggled herself up with blankets and a large cup of tea. The seer broke out of a vision, her skin cold against the warmth of the blanket, a film of sweat dripped down her burrowed forehead.

She turned her eyes to Azriel, he smiled weakly as he shifted himself onto the floor, his back resting on the neighbouring armchair, his wings stretched out around him.

She returned the smile before snuggling further into the blankets. She couldn’t bring herself to invite him to join her like she normally would, she could still feel the weight of Lucians hand on her cheek and taste of him on her lips.

“I know you saw Lucian.”

“Oh.” was the only answer she could muster, her heart racing.

“It’s alright my Love. I understand it's complicated.”

“It's always complicated.” she muttered.

“But do you love me?” He rose above her, his lips kissing her nose between each word.

“Yes.”

“And I love you, so I don’t mind it being complicated.” 

His words made her heart stop racing and she smiled at him.

“I love you so much.” she whispered before pulling him to her. His shadows wrapped around her as they kissed sending pleasurable shivers down her spine.

“So very much.” she whispered into her lovers ear as the shadows worked their way lower.

The vision momentarily forgotten.

\-------------------------

 

Night settled over the Night Court, the citizens milled around their island. Opening stores and restaurants and buzzing for the good night ahead.

Feyre sat alone on the roof of the House of Wind, she had sent her court to their beds hours ago. Nesta and Cassian had been the last to leave her side, Nesta hovering close to her sister. Making sure she wasn’t going to jump off the roof without her wings, Nestas words not Feyres.

But soon she had silence, the noise from the village didn’t reach up here and with only Mor and Rhys sleeping below her in the house, the silence was welcome. Before this day she had hated the silence, always trying to surround herself with her sisters or her daughter but now with the welcomed knowledge of Rhysands return she once again welcomed the peacefulness of nothing.

She stared out at the stars, leaning back until she was flat on her back she took in the stars.

“Thank you.” she whispered to them. In response the stars twinkled back and laughter dancing on her lips. Unimaginable joy filled the High lady of the Night Court. 

“We need to have a little chat, Feyre.” a voice said from behind her.

She jumped quickly, and turned, claws already out as she found her footing, she cursed herself silently for coming up stairs bare footed as the cold tiles bit into her feet.

Tamlin, High Lord of the Spring Court, stood on her roof, bare of weapons with his hands raised. His appearance hadn’t changed since the last time she had set eyes on him, he was still tall, his hair long as it moved gently in the breeze the only change was a new scar cut across his face that crinkled near his eye as he smiled at her. The smile mirrored a wolf about to pounce on its prey.

“You can’t be here, we had a deal.” Feyre retracted her claws but kept the fighting stance, “No High Lords or Ladies enter another court without expressed and written permission from the High Lord or Lady of that Court.”

“I know, but you have been keeping a secret from the Courts.” his words were coated in poison as he moved closer to her, “Remember that other law, no secrets will be kept from each Court if they interfere with the ruling or managing of the Courts, for example births, deaths exetra.” 

“I have no secrets from the Courts, I made that law remember.” 

“Then why did Lucian talk about a certain Bat brought back to life.”

Feyres world shifted, and her sisters actions echoed back to her, a hesitated nod and a guilty look.

“Rhysand is back, but I am still High Lady so I didn’t feel the need to tell you anything as there is and will never be a power shift.” 

Tamlin smiled again, a smile remembered all to well.

“Feyre, Feyre, Feyre, Your High Lord has returned. And from what I heard, a little patchy on some things, how long till he tries to take his throne from little old you and your tiny vulnerable pup.”

“What do you want Tamlin?” The words brought dreed deep into her spin and she suddenly felt like the little human she had been all those years ago.

He considered her answer, mockingly tapping his finger to his chin, “Well it would make my oldest friend very happy to have his mate back. Plus we always did say there would be consequences for any betrayal of the new Wall Laws, your idea again I believe.”

“No.”

“Give me Elain, and no one will know about Rhys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who didn't know they were including Tamlin to this story?  
> Yeah me... Anyway he is still a tool and Lucian is still his second
> 
> I'm sorry there has been a delay in chapters, I am literally writing these as I go and posting as soon as I finish a chapter. Life's been up in the air lately so I haven't been in a writing headspace but we will see how I go. Any who, please enjoy and leave a kudus or just say Hi, it would mean the world.


	8. Chapter Seven

 

Tamlins words knocked Feyre back, he was blackmailing her for Lucian.

The whole concept confused the High Lady, Lucian was in love with Elain, that was true, but he would never want her by his side like this.

“Lucian would never want Elain by his side, not like this.”

“Lucian wants his mate, how he gets her isn’t a concern.”

Feyre laughed without humour, “Even after two hundred years you still don’t understand anything, how are you still this thick? Love can’t be forced, it doesn’t just happen because two fae are forced together! Love is Love you idiot.”

Tamlin just stared back at her, his lips curled in his usual cruel smile.

They stood there staring at each other, Feyre counting her breathes to control her magic that was threatening to burn Tamlin where he stood.

“Think about it this way, if I take Elain now, you can spend as much time as you like with your little zombie, and then if he gets his memories back and you want to tell everyone about him, you get her back. No worse for wear.”

“I will not give you my sister.” 

“Then I will tell the courts the rightful High Lord has returned.”

“Tamlin-” Feyres voice broke as she took him in, how she had once loved this Male was now beyond her, “She is my sister and he is my mate. How am I to choose?” 

“That is not a concern on mine, choose, your sister and lets not lie to each other Lover it's not your mate you are bartering, it's your throne.” 

Feyres silence was deafening, her mind whirling. She knew she couldn’t let the courts know about Rhysands return, not yet. They still were unsure on her ruling alone even after so many years, but to give Elain in Rhysands place. Azriel would never forgive her, neither would Nesta or Cassian.

Would you forgive yourself? Rhysands voice returned, his tones gentle against her worried thoughts.

“No.”

“No?”

“I can’t give you my sister for my mate. That's not going to happen!” She stood firm and allowed her claws to stretch from her fingertips, Tamlins own magic mirrored the motion and they started for each other, Feyres wings bursting from her spine as she leaped aiming her raised palm for Tamlins neck.

“Stop.”

The voice was nothing but a whisper but it stopped both blood thirty fae in their tracks, Feyre touched down gently as she turned.

Elain stepped out of the shadows, the darkness caressing her before disappearing. She was barefoot like her sister, but dressed in loose linen pants and Azriels black shirt she looked smaller than ever before. The sight took Feyres breathe away.

“Elain-” she started but her sister cut her off.

“I saw this, I have been seeing this for some time Feyre. I will go with him.” 

Feyre didn’t think it was possible for Tamlins smile to get any bigger as he held out a still clawed hand for Elain. Her sister ignored it and turned her back on the High Lord. 

For a perfect moment the two sisters stood there, their eyes memorising every inch of each others faces. Tears fell freely as Feyre cupped her middle sisters cheeks, she brought a delicate kiss to Elains upturned nose.

“I will get you back.” she promised.

The seer smiled and nodded, “I know you will, just bring back Rhysand.”

“How?”

“Remind him how he fell in love with you in the first place.”

“He use to say it was when I threw a shoe at his head.” She laughed out and the sisters embraced.

“Less violence more love. He will remember.”

“Will you be safe?”

Elain nodded, her curls bobbing in the evening breeze. “Lucian will never hurt me, and Az he will understand.”

“Did you tell him?”

“No, I couldn’t.” Elain turned to Tamlin, straightening her shoulders and staring him down, “I come with you and you tell no one of Rhysands return. You must swear this before my High Lady and I will come with you without a fight to the Spring Court.”

Tamlin mused over Elains words, the weight of them etched in every syllable. He nodded reluctantly and took her outstretched hand in his, as his hand engulfed hers the spirals and twists of a Night Court deal danced onto his skin, flowers bloomed red as they settled. The pattern was unlike any Feyre had seen before, all her deals had been sharp, like vines wrapped tightly on the skin. Elains deal was like a painting, red roses bloomed as leafy vines caressed the High Lords forearm.

“Now you have to.” the seer said curtly before taking on more look at Feyre, I’ll see you soon she mouthed to her sister before placing her spare hand gently over her stomach, an old tick Feyre recognised as nerves from their childhood. Like Elain could wrap herself up into a tiny ball and be left untouched by the horrors of the world. 

Without another word, Tamlin took Elain in his arms and winnowed away leaving Feyre alone on the roof.

Turning back to the island she loved so much Feyre realised once again the weight of the crown she wore.

“I’ll see you soon big sister.” she said to the shadows that had bitten away at the building, as if searching for their mistress. 

The shadows melted away from the High Lady as she went back inside, slipping back to their master heavy with grief.

\------------------------------------

 

Rhysand couldn’t sleep, his head whirled with all the thoughts of what he could have missed, all he lost and doesn’t even know about.

Feyre.

She was on his mind the most, her body was something he knew, with raised hands he could almost picture the curves of her breasts, the dip in her hips and the softness of her thighs. He could taste her on his tongue, and hear her moans echoing in his ears.

But he did not know her. Could not picture how they met, her favourite colour, or why he had given her his throne. 

Nothing made sense, and the awkwardness he felt sleeping in his own guest room was not helping. The silk sheets underneath him felt too soft, and too familiar to the memories he had remembered, although they were a different colour and the room was not the same, the feeling mirrored his nightmares.

Get it together, he chanted to himself. But as he tossed and turned Feyres voice whispered through this head, her words seeking in his mind.

“Get up.” his door slammed open and an angry Feyre stormed in, her voice icey cold as her wings exploded from her back.

“Get out of bed and get dressed,” she pulled the sheets off him, his nakedness barely registering as she tossed his trousers on the bed.

Rhysand stared at her, the wings taking all his focus, “You have wings.”

“So do you.” she seethered, “Now get out of bed, we need to talk and I am not feeling very patient right now.”

“What happened to, I’ll wait however long it takes?”

“Tamlin took my sister, so you are going to get your memories back if it kills me.”

Her words got Rhysand out of bed, the familiar tug of Tamlins name awakening something in him.

“That bastard has your sister?” which one? He wondered silently, I hope it's not the sweet one who found me. He knew Tamlin would be unlikely to hurt the female, but Elain had looked so tiny against Cassian in the Spring Court, another unknown feeling to protect had filled him.

“That's what I said, and he will keep her until you get your memories back and we can tell every court that you stand by me.”

“And if I don’t stand by you?”

Feyre stopped her frantic movements, her wings began is dissolve in the air as she turned to take him in, she swallowed the vile that threatened to rise and blinked away tears.

“Then my daughter will be without an inheritance and my sister will be lost in the Spring Court, which will destroy Azriel, leaving the Night Court defenceless against the other courts and with Elain gone then Nesta will lose herself in anger again sending Cassian into a tailspin then you are left with a crumbling court and no one to protect it.”

Rhysand raised one perfect eyebrow, “Your sister isn’t that important to send a whole court into ruin.”

For the second time in 24 hours Feyres hand collided with his face, “She is to me!” 

The High Lady stormed from the room, “She told me to make you remember with love, but you are reminding me why I hated you so much at the beginning.”

“If you hated me so much, why did you fall in love with me?”

“Because I am obviously a fucking idiot.” she called over her shoulder as her wings once again took form, “Now get dressed and meet me on the roof, it’s time you re-entered your court.”

Rhysand was left standing naked and alone, “Wait… Daughter?”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------

 

Tamlin left Elain alone almost instantly, storming off shaking his now tattooed hand as if the angry movement would erase the promise.

“Should I follow you?” she called after his retreating back, a roar her only answer. 

“I’ll take that as a no.” she muttered giving Tamlins retreating back a small wave.

Ass she thought as she finally took in the grand entrance of Tamlins home, trying to imagine what it could have been like when Feyre first stepped foot. When her sister was human and alone. The fear that must of taken root, the fear that somehow had turned to love. A first love type of love that caused her sister to run headlong into trouble to save the ungrateful male.

She could see how enticing this house could have been, the structure still stood tall and strong but where marble and gold use to shine now crept vines and weed. The glistening gold panelling was chipped or just plainly missing while the chandelier was sparse and seemed to hang off only one of its four chains. Elain took a careful step to the left to remove herself from underneath its threatening shadow.

Since the High Lord had given her no instruction on where to go, or what to do,she wandered up the stairs, running her fingers over the leafy vines, the greenery seemed to call her and rose to meet her touch. 

“At least you are pleased to see me.” she cooed to the vines, moving further up the stairwell. She knew from Feyres own admission that the Spring Court was in ruins, it had never truly been able to recover from Feyres actions during the war. However the extent of her sisters damage had truly not been exaggerated. Burn marks still charred the stairs under her feet and nothing hung off the hooking still attached to the wall.

“You could have cleaned up a little.” she called down the stairs, knowing that with Fae hearing her captor would know her opinion of his abode.

She froze after hearing a door above slam, she bare feet suddenly frozen half off the top stair.

“Who's there?” she called above, suddenly afraid to be without her constant shadows. They were always with her in the Night Court, much like her constant contact with Azriel. But as soon as she had stepped foot on the roof with Feyre she had constructed a block between them. 

I’m doing this for Feyre she had sent down their bond, not a mating bond but one that was just as strong, forgive me. Now with the wall up she would not know her lovers response.

The slamming door was now echoed by rushing footsteps, sending Elain stepped backwards down the stairs slowly.

Lucian appeared before her, clothes rumbled from sleep and hair sticking out in every possible direction from what Nesta would call a man-bun.

“Elain?” his voice was heavy with sleep and he rubbed his eyes as if he could not believe she was standing there.

“Hello.”

“What-?”

“Oh Tamlin brought me here to keep you happy, and to torture Feyre.” 

His brows furrowed in confusion, “Sorry? I am confused.” 

“You told Tamlin Rhysand was back.”

“Yeah.” he at least had the decency to look guilty.

“He decided to blackmail Feyre with the information.”

“Blackmail?”

“Keep up Lucian, you betrayed my trust and told Tamlin and now he is keeping me here till Rhysand remembers who he is.”Anger was flowing freely from everyone of Elains pores, she could barely see her mate in front of her through the haze of red his betrayal produced.

“Elain, I didn’t mean for this!” He moved towards her but she stepped away placing a delicate foot to the side she skidded from his touch and somehow found herself on the top step looking down at the red haired fae.

“What did you mean for then Lucian if not this?”

“I thought if Tamlin knew Rhysand was alive then the guilt he had from the war would lift! I thought I would somehow get my best friend back!” Each of Lucians words were filled with so much sorrow and pain Elain couldn’t help but pull him to her, he clung tightly to her shirt as she nestled her head on his chest.

“Lucian, I don’t think Tamlin can come back from this.” she whispered and felt him nod his response. 

“But the spring court can.” He pushed her gently away and furrowed his brow once again.

“How?”

“You. With some spring, pun intended, cleaning and your winning personality, you can return this court to what it once was.”

Lucian got lost in thought as Elain took his hand and wondered further into the darkened corridor of the spring court, the vines around her rising to her presence.

And with her back to Lucian the Seer let herself smile, for once everything was going the way she planned and soon the Spring Court would be as strong as the Night.

When Tamlin had brought her sister back to the Spring Court he had brought in his own downfall, and he had not learnt.

By bringing in another sister he was bringing down his rule, and rebuilding the Spring Court.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for the lovely comments, sorry if I don't respond to them all but I appreciate every one!  
> Next chapter: Feyre and Rhysand have a chat, Azriel finds out what Elain has done and Hope with Amrens help meets her dad.


	9. Chapter Eight

Azriel awoke to a cold and empty bed, he dragged a scarred hand over the sheets beside him. Where he should have found Elain curled up, warm to his touch he found an icey sheet. Cold from the window he did not remember leaving open.

He blinked away sleep and sat up, taking in the empty room. All was like it had been when he had gone to sleep, minus one Female and by the looks of it his shirt.

Him waking up alone was not an unfamiliar occurrence as Elain was always an early riser, trying to get into the garden before the summer sun bit her pale skin too much. But this time as he settled against the headboard, the empty room felt different. 

“Elain?” he called out but before her name could leave his lips he knew she was gone, his shadows rushed to him, pulling themselves closely to his magic he felt himself start to disappear into them. They whispered where his love had gone, their own sorrow merging with his as they all took in the reality of the fact they faced.

Elain had left him, for the spring court. 

Azriel fell back onto the bed and let the shadows take him, his hand resting gently on his chest as he feels his heart break into a thousand pieces.

\---------

Rhysand followed the angry female from his guest room and down the corridor. All while trying to pull on his trousers and a jacket.

“Where are we going?” He called to her, but the Made-Fae didn’t turn to look at him though he knew from her twinge of her shoulders she had heard him.

She stalked further into the house taking turn after turn without a glance behind her to make sure he followed.

“Feyre?” he muttered, the name still tasting foreign on his tongue.

She stopped at the main entrance of the House of Wind, she turned to look at him and once again he was blown away by the complexity of her features.

She wasn’t beautiful, not like Mor was, but she was pretty in a way he couldn’t put a finger on. Her cheeks were dusted with freckles that made his fingers itch to touch, and with her grey eyes locked onto his he could see the oceans of blue that swirled around her iris. The sun was rising over the island, another short evening he registered, making it the peak of Summer in the courts. The sun on Feyres hair set it aflame, glowing like a deity from an old human religion. He smiled without realising as she self consciously tucked a hair behind her elongated ear. 

“Stop it.” she blushed, the colour only deepened her freckles and set his heart to beat faster.

“I can see why I fell in love with you.” he whispered, more to himself than to her but she nodded with him.

“I didn’t always look like this, I was a weak little human once.”

“I can’t see you as weak.”  _ or human _ , he added to himself.

“I need to show you something, it's a memory and its not a pleasant one.” her honesty hung between them as she looked away and out to the island below. The difference between the angry fae who stormed into his room only minutes before and the female standing in front of him now were so varied, if he hadn’t had her in his sighted the whole time he would have thought she had a twin. A very angry twin.

“How unpleasant?”

“It is the day I died, and the day you let me go.”

Rhysands brow furrowed in confusion, “Let you go?”

“You knew from the moment we met that we were mates. But I was in love with Tamlin, and you respected that.”

“I hate that prick.” the venom in his voice made Feyre smile wider and her eyes crease with humour.

“Yes I am aware, that feeling never left you.”

“Why did I let you go?”

“Because you were, are, a good person.” she lifted her fingers to his temple, he shivered beside himself at the touch. It felt electrifying and cold all at once. She pressed her fingertips down hard.

“I’m sorry.” she whispered before the vision took over them both.

_ Rhysand settled into the vision better than he had with his own memory. Feyre was next to him, smiling as she pointed to something happened before tham. _

_ A cave took form around him and as he moved closer suddenly people pushed closer. He recognised faces from every court but none looked his way as they all stood still, frozen in time from Feyres mind. She pushed forward further, her fingers entwining with his as she stopped in front of the crowd. _

_ He looked around, taking in even more faces, when he realized every single person bar them was frozen. _

_ “Are we under the mountain?”  _

_ “Do you remember?” his mate sounded so hopeful as she turned her large eyes onto him. _

_ “I remember her.” he seethed as he took in the woman in the center of Feyres memory.  _

_ Dressed in red, the woman from Rhysands worst nightmare looked even worst frozen in Feyres memory. She was standing over Feyres half fallen body, Feyre looked so tiny under her shadow that Rhysand pulled himself towards to her. She was frozen like everyone in the dream, her neck hung from her shoulders in a way that made Rhysand rush further to her side. _

_ He cupped Feyres face in his hands, her body ice cold to the touch. The real Feyre knelt beside him, her hands warm against his back. _

_ “She snapped my neck, I killed to save Tamlin and she tricked me. The last one I had to kill to free him from her - was him.” She refused to look anywhere but at him, her eyes focused to stronging Rhysand knew that being here was causing her unbearable pain. _

_ He looked back at the dead Feyre in his hands, her rounded ears were so soft and her freckles seemed to beam from her pale skin. “I did it though, I stabbed Tamlin to free us all. I saved him and she killed me for it.” _

_ The other bodies in the room started to take form, Tamlins huge form lunged for Feyres body, while the other high lords all seemed to be moving in the direction of the woman in red. Lunging into action all for the dead human at their feet.  _

_ Around Feyres body, a string of power seemed to wrap slowly around her. Black in colour and strong in power it held her tightly and helped her body find its way to the floor as gently as possible.  The string moved in the air snaking between bodies, around legs and under outstretched arms until it found its anchor. _

_ Rhysand caught his own eye for the second time in twenty four hours. He was outstretched too like the handful of lords around him, but he knew the pain that was etched over his familiar features. _

_ The pain mirrored in his heart, the memory of the pain resurfacing and bubbling around him. He watched as the string of black power settled over his own heart, the string going tight as it pulled and pulled, the darkness shifting back and forth from black to blue till he heard it.  _

_ A small sound in the back of his mind, female in nature and so familiar he felt himself melt into the sound. A purr gently escaping his lips. _

_ “Hello Darling.” Feyre said from behind him, her lips popping over the vowels. _

_ “Feyre-” her name was a prayer finally answered on his lips. He turned to her, the real her with something bubbling in his chest, a pain that was almost pleasurable as she held out her hand for his.  _

_ He linked fingers with his mate, their touch feeling like static as they nervously pulled each other close, his hip against hers, her hair tickling his exposed collar bone as she rested her head on his shoulder. _

_ “I think I understand now.” he whispered as they both took in the last of the memory before them. _

_ Human Feyres body lay gently on the floor as the string around her grew bigger, the power holding her last breathe just before her lips, as the lords that all stood before her slowly gave up a part of themselves. Each bauble of power made her connection with Rhysand stronger until the only one left was the Night lord himself.  _

_ Rhysand was unable to tear his eyes from himself as his own heartbroken face stared at the fallen human, no words could describe the pain that leaked from his perfect mask of indifference. The power that flowed through him and danced on his fingers was bright, no darkness in the power as it flew down the connection and settled over Feyres heart. _

_ Finally her last breath escaped her lips and the connection between the two seemed to falter, Rhysand held Feyres hand tighter as her human form seemed to shake.  _

_ The Feyre beside him closed her eyes, a tear falling from her eyelashes. _

_ “I can’t-”she whispered before the memory dissolved around them. _

Rhysand stepped away from his mate as he blinked away the bright sun. He couldn’t calm his breathing as he took her in, Feyre in return smiled broadly.

“Hello Mate.” she whispered which made the Night Court High Lord to burst into an almost giggle.

“Feyre, this is-”

“I know.” her fingers ghosted over his face, long fingers memorising every curve and dip, “I know this is all so much, but now you know.”

Rhysand leant into her touch, closing his eyes as her fingers stoked his brow and closed eyes, brushing away the tears he did even know were falling.

“You’re my mate.”

“And you are mine.” Feyre brushed her lips to his, ever so carefully as if not to frighten him, but Rhysand opened his eyes and pulled her close, they lips crushing in a need of bitten lips and clashing teeth.

Feyre laughed through the kiss, “We use to be better at this.”

“Practise makes perfect, Feyre Darling.” He smirked back before leaning in again, nipping at her bottom lip. 

Feyre melted into the kiss, all worries forgotten for the minute as she tasted her Mate on her tongue again.

They both knew the truth, Rhysand knew the bond was real, he knew she was his mate. But his memories -  they were not back and when they would come back, that was question for the cauldron.

\---------------------------------

The spring court was quiet in the mornings, Elain sat on the bottom stair of the grand staircase, her bare feet slowly making patterns on the dusty floor. Her focus was on the corridor Tamlin had stormed down hours before. He never told her where she was to go, and after some wandering of the halls she had not found on vacant and liveable room for her to rest in.

So the polite thing to do, something her mother would have done, would wait for the Master of the house to settle her in somewhere.

Elain smiled at the thought of her mother in a place like this, she would have been appalled at it all. Of the crumbling wall coverings to the destroyed furniture. Let along the fact that it was a Faye house, that would have also sent Mother into a spin, causing the well mannered lady to sip her brandy and complain about her emotions.

Elain pulled herself from that train of thought, she hadn’t thought of the woman who brought her into the world in years. The last time had been when Hope was only five, she had been trying to jump from one small wall to another. Her little wings flapping wildly as she stuck her tongue out in concentration. Elain and Feyre had watched carefully half amused and half ready to rush in if the little winged gremlin stumbled.

_ I will not fail you like Mother did us _ Elain had thought from nowhere as Hope successfully made the two foot jump. 

“I promise, Hope, I won’t fail you.” she whispered to the empty Spring Court, before she rose from her step. No one was still around so she started to walk around the room, the vines and weeds seemed to call to her as she passed.

“This needs to be sorted.” she said to no one as she slowly got to work, pulling an old antique chair (with no back adn a torn cushion) she started from where she could reach. The weeds came easily from their places, and after no time at all a small part of the foyer was clear of all plant life.

“I see you’re making yourself useful.” 

Tamlins voice didn’t startle the Seer, though she made sure her shoulders shook with surprise.

“Someone needs to sort this out.” She turned, dusting away a stray hair that curled around her face.

“Why?”

“Because once upon a time this Court was the thing of Fairy Tales, this was the court that my sister loved -”

“The court your sister destroyed!” he snarled through exposed fangs.

“Calm Tamlin, yes my sister was not perfect for this court, but it has been two hundred years. You need to rebuild, this needs to be a court of fairy tales again.” with that she turned her back on him and went back to pulling at the overgrown vines.

“If you wanted to help, I need a bin for these.” she called over her shoulder.

Silence was her only answer till she heard Tamlins footsteps as he walked away.

She went back to work, a smile playing on her lips as the High Lord walked back in dragging a bin behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... do we like this?  
> Next up Rhys meets Hope, Feyre has a panic attack and Elain keeps on gardening.


	10. Chapter Nine

Elain and Tamlin worked through the whole day, sweat dripping off both Fae as they stripped the stairwell and entrance way of all invading plants. Elain saved the plants that she could, putting them in pots a lesser fae had brought in earlier. The lesser fae was tiny, skin stretched taught over bone with small glittering wings that fluttered as Elain thanked it. Tamlin had muttered barely a word all day. 

Lucian had not made an appearance, but Elain felt down the mating bond that he was aware of her activities. She threw the wall back up the bond when he sent a thank you to her. She didn’t need the confusion with the mating bond while she was working. 

And while her heart was longing for her shadow singer. 

She could feel the shadows watching her all day, they lurked in the corner on her vision and curled around her feet each time she stopped for a drink. The wall against the bond had faded shortly upon her arrival, she didn’t have the strength to keep them away.They wanted to play but she silently shooed them back to the corners. Tamlin could not know they were watching. 

The sun set just as Tamlin swept away the last on the debri, Elain leaped halfway up the stairs to get a better look at the their handiwork.

“It's a start.” she called down to the High Lord who looked dead on his feet but a small smile played on his normally sour face.

“Why?” He asked her, “Why do you care?”

Elain smiled sadly at the tone Tamlin used, broken and alone, the High Faye who had once been the saviour of her sister and the object of affection that had started a curse. 

“I told you-” she started.

“Not the fairy tale reason, the truth.”

Elain took a moment, moving her weight from one foot to the other she took a deep breathe, “I see a lot. A lot I can’t change, a lot that changes before it happens and then a lot that haunts me and a lot that makes no sense. But what I see of the Spring Court is death- your anger, my lord, is killing your court.” she stopped to take another deep breath, “You need to make a decision, step down and left Lucian take the helm, or grow up and move on.”

Tamlins smile turned to a sneer, “So you want your Mate to be High Lord, what the right hand man to your whore of a sister not good enough?”

Elain rose one eyebrow, Tamlins rudeness not bothering her, though the shadows roared up and threatened to move forward.

Azriel, call off the shadows she called down her bond, with the distance between them she knew her words would not reach her love but hoped her sentiment would. The only answer was a deafening silence in the back of her mind. Azriel was mad at her. She left the bond open for him, her heart missing his voice.

“I’m not Feyre, or Nesta or my partner. I don’t want power nor care for it, all my life I have just wanted to be comfortable and left alone with my garden. That's it, nothing else, but I am also a seer and given a horrible responsibility to know the future. So please don’t think I care about your little court and the throne that comes with it. But the fae here, they deserve better. I had every intention of over throwing you Tamlin, of putting Lucian there and letting you suffer but after today, I want you to get better too.”

“Why?” he repeated.

“Because I am a sentimental fool, and a hopeful person.”

Tamlin nodded and walked up the stairs to her his hand outstretched, the tattoo of their promise out for the world to see.

“Together?” he promised.

“Together.” she grasped his hand and on her own wrist burst an array of red and pink roses, all blooming at once. 

 

\--------------------------

 

The day passed quickly for the High lord and Lady of the Night court. They had found themselves in Rhysand bedroom, the sheets ripped from the bed the moment Feyre discovered they were silk.

“I’m so sorry.” she had solemnly said between kisses, they lips barley parting since the bond had snapped into place again.

“It’s okay.” he said back before leaving her lips to explore her neck.

“I remember this.” he whispered, his warm breath tickling her sensitive skin.

They collapsed on the bare mattress, Rhysand resting his head on Feyres chest, the material soft against his cheek.

“Tell me about her.” he asked as his fingers entwined with Feyres, His mates the idea was so strange but after what he had seen it was also so right.

“Who?”

“My - Daughter.” the word sounded stranger than the word Mate, yesterday he had neither but now he had everything he had ever dreamed of.

“She is- you, so much like you it is uncanny.” Feyres spare hand threaded through Rhysands hair, causing the high lord to purr against the touch, “She was born screaming and I don’t think she has shut up since. Cass and Az taught her to fly, no horrible methods like you three were taught but with love and kindness. She learnt politics and how to act in Court with Mor and Amren which means she can talk herself out of everything.”

“Oh my cauldron.” he muttered at the thought.

“Yep she was raised by the best of them. My sisters taught her everything human they could think of which is great.”

“And you? What did you teach her?”

Feyre turned away from her mate, blinking away tears as she tried to find the words.

“Not a lot to begin with, I was mourning you and she was-”

“So much like me?”

“Yeah, it was like a cruel joke from the universe that I couldn’t escape. Once she was older, an angry teenager I taught her to paint, to pour everything into her art.”

“She any good?”

Feyre laughed, “So good, better than me but we are never telling her that.”

Rhysand closed his eyes and let himself picture his daughter, the glimpse of her asleep from earlier was all he had but from that he could almost hear her laugh, see her spread her wings in flight.

“I want to meet her.”

Feyre sat up, causing Rhysand to fall back onto the bed, “No, not yet.”

Rhysand wanted to argue, to fight for his right to see his daughter, but something in him knew the look in Feyres eyes. They were stormy as she set her jaw and shifted away from him.

“Okay, not yet.” 

“Thank you.”

They didn’t settle back as they had before, the uneasiness had destroyed the moment but they both collapsed back onto the bed shoulder to shoulder staring up at the ceiling.

“I want to remember Feyre, I really do.”

“I know.”

They laid together in silence, the moon rising and falling beyond their window, the pair didn’t cling to each other but in the dark they shared the moment. Each second a gift they had paid a heavy price for.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Uncle Az?” 

Hope opened the door to the gallery, expecting darkness and boxes filled with her art that she had left lying around the day before. Instead as she opened the glass stained door she found all the blinds up, the early morning sun blasting over the now filled walls. A dark figure stood one legged off a ladder adjusting her painting of Aunt Elain. Her uncles fingers gently stroked the glossy painted lips, his shoulders slumped as the canvas found its nail to hang.

“Az?” she called again, his shoulders jumped and Hope registered this could be the first time she had ever seen her uncle started.

“Hope! You came for help the other day, I have come to help!” His voice was cheery, almost as cheery as Cassian's always was but his smile never reached his eyes and the stones that normally sparkled with power seemed dull and almost empty.

“I see that, I was going to ask you to teach me how to use a hammer but alas!” she laughed as she took in her art hanging on the walls of her own art gallery.

Azriels arm fell comfortably over her shoulders as he pulled her into a hug, “I’m proud of you Kiddo.” he kissed the top of her head as they took in her work.

“I’m proud of me too.” she whispered.

Hope took a long look at her uncle, his ageless face that had shone with silent happiness seemed dulled even as he smiled brightly.

“Where's Aunt Elain? I’m surprised there's not a billion flowers everywhere in here.” 

Azriels smile dropped for just a moment, and he turned from his niece. 

“She went to the spring court for a while.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

The honesty of his answer hung between the pair, Azriel never lied to Hope. He never sugar coated anything not even when she was growing up. Which had lead to many uncomfortable conversations like, “Where do babies come from?” and “Why is wing size important?”.

“Has she gone to see Lucian?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is it because Dads back?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think she is going to stay there forever?”

“I don’t know.”

 

\---------

 

The day passed into night and back to day without any of the island seeing any member of the Night Court. Murmurs came from the lack of Feyre wandering the streets, no Elain passing out flowers to stalls or Nesta helping in the kitchens of the restaurants. 

The island was a buzzed with where their leaders could be, but nothing that passed each of their lips even murmured about Rhysand or the thought crossed anyone mind.

 

\-------

 

Feyre woke before Rhysand, over the course of the night he had slipped away from her his long arms hugging his pillow to his chest, his head hanging off the side of the bed. 

The High Lady couldn’t help but smile at the sight. For two hundred years she had dreamt of this moment, of a quiet peaceful moment with her mate.

She slipped from the bed gently so not to disturb him. Her heart was beating out of her chest and the large room suddenly felt so small, the balcony beckoned to her and the cool air that greeted the High Fae was enough to bring her to her knees. Under her bare legs the tiled floor felt like the greatest comfort in the world. She bared down her weight on it, counting backwards to calm herself.

The reality of what the last fews days had brought finally sat on her chest.

Rhysand was home, alive. Very much alive.

Elain was gone.

The reminder startled Feyre, in her joy of the newly reconnected mating bond she had forgotten about her sister.

Selfish she cursed to herself, so selfish!

The promise Tamlin gave her sister was the only thing that stopped Feyre from flying to the Spring Court and stealing her sister back.

Be safe Elain, we need you home. Feyre could feel down the bonds with her inner court that everyone was dealing with the last couple of days differently. 

 

Mor was drinking, with Nesta right beside her meeting drink for drink. 

Cassian had flown to the mountains, his emotions getting the better of him as he threw his magic at every rocky outcrop he could find.

Amren was pouring over her books, a glass of red wine half empty beside her, her own confusion etched all over her now immortal body.

Azriel, Feyre could barely reach him through their bond, his body was wrapped so tightly in his shadows she almost missed him, but Hopes shining light brought him into the light, her hands touching his shoulders in comfort as he tried so hard not to slide into despair.

Feyre pulled herself back from her family, they all were dealing with Rhysands resurrection, dealing with it in ways her imagination had never thought of. When she had dreamed of Rhysands return, it was always with joy, dinners would be held in his honour, his brothers would laugh and sing horrid battle songs after too much wine and Mor would dance on a table dragging Nesta to join in. Elain would have baked a cake and everyone on the island would have enjoyed themselves.

The harsh reality of real life tarnished the whole ilusion now as the sun beat down on the roofs below. Barely anyone was out, all hiding from the warm sun waiting for the cool air of night once again.

“We need to tell people I’m back.” Rhysand voice was like honey , smooth and cooling against her mind.

She turned to take him in, his wings stretched out behind him, shirtless with just the sheet wrapped low on his hips and hair messed from sleep he was everything she ever remembered. 

“I know.”

“For Elain,” he reminded her before stepping closer, the glow of the sun set his skin ablaze his voice was like honey but his skin under the light was just as sweet. “And for Hope, I say I’m back but the line of succession don’t change. I will be high lord and one day her husband will be High Lord.”

His words tuned sour with each sylaball, and Feyre suddenly remembered that while the mating bond was connecting them, the history they shared and the world they had once lived in was gone.

She cleared her throat, threw her hair back with a shake of her head and stared him down, “Hope will be High Lady, that is what she raised to be and what she will become.” spoken through clenched teeth the words sent Rhysands forehead furrowing.

“That's not how it goes Feyre.”

“It is here.” she seethed.

“As High Lord I choose my successor and whomever our daughter picks will be a great heir.”

“She is the heir! She is the next ruler of the Night Court.”

“Feyre, I know you have ruled while I was gone -”

“Dead!”

“Yes that, but I am back, and I need to make this choice.”

Feyre wanted to scream at him, to scratch at him with her claws or burn him with the flames that were threatening to erupt.

“You sound just like Tamlin right now, and I know you have a lot to remember, but know this Rhysand, for this moment I am the High Lady of the Night Court and ruler of all darkness, and my daughter is my Heir, and you are -” She swallowed the swear she wanted to call him and felt a darker word rise from the worst part of herself, “Nothing, you are nothing.” 

She pushed past him, and stormed from the bedroom, her words hanging heavily behind her.


End file.
